


Home is Behind, the World Ahead

by pietra_dura_come_la_realta



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Family, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 11:48:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8142676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pietra_dura_come_la_realta/pseuds/pietra_dura_come_la_realta
Summary: A young Legolas learns a valuable lesson about friendship and family. One Shot.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a (late) birthday gift for my wonderful friend and Feren-roleplayer, hisloyalvassal (no seriously, check her out - her Feren is pure perfection). Have the best birthday, Madison!

Some thought guarding the throne room was the best task a soldier could be assigned to. Erin thought it was the worst. Of course the position had benefits. You stayed in the palace, close to relatives and friends who often passed by to talk or bring you sweets and berries. Nor was it as boring as patrolling the inner forest, where only rarely a beast or orc that had slipped through the outer defenses had to be hunted down, for in the palace at least many elves could be watched, and it was certainly warmer and safer - not to mention that it was an honor to protect the king. Erin knew all of that.

He also knew that he'd rather spend a week in pouring rain and wind on the outer edges of the forest, than having to stay another hour on the path to the throne room. To Mordor with warmth and comfort and safety! He had trained himself to protect his people, not to be a ceremonial addition to the king's court! Lord Thranduil had enough courtiers! Let Tharan or Galion or-

"FEREN!" A terrifying scream ruptured the midday silence that always hung over the palace when everyone was eating or out on duties. Erin was on the verge of leaving his station, when he saw the prince running on one of the higher bridges. The guard loosened his grip on his sword. Though clearly in haste, the young elfling did not seem distressed, but rather... excited? He was holding something in his hands too... Something alive. Erin smirked. However boring his new station might be, at least he had not been assigned as a guard to the prince. Legolas was known to be a handful. All of a sudden, his station did not look that bad anymore. _I don't really know you well, Feren, but by Yavanna, I wish you all the luck in the world._

* * *

 

"FEREN!" Lalleth had forbidden him to call upon the spirits - she said that it brought bad luck and that the spirits reacted in unexpected ways, and that sometimes their intervention could make matters even worse, and many more things he had not really paid attention to - but right now, Legolas was really tempted to do just that. His surprise was turning out sour. Though his new friend had been quiet enough in the forest, she did not seem to like the palace very much (which was understandable of course - Legolas preferred being outside as well most of the time) and was wriggling madly in the elf’s arms; and these halls were so big! It could take hours before he found Feren! Not for the first time, the young elf wished he was already as big and strong as the guard. Feren would have been able to hold the creature! He could do anything, even drawing a bow that was bigger than Legolas! And he had let Legolas hold it! No one else had allowed him that! His determined frown grew deeper. He had to find Feren!

At the end of the high bridge, the young elf skidded to a halt and took a moment to think. The guard probably wasn't in his room (Lalleth had told him that Feren did not like his room very much, just like Legolas!), nor was he on his usual posts, which the prince had all checked, so there was only one place left - the kitchens.

Heaving his present higher, Legolas turned around and ran across the paths to Lalleth's home where he, to his great joy, smelt the familiar mix of stone and iron and wood even before he spotted the auburn hair. The guard was in the act stealing a pastry from the pile Lalleth had placed strategically near him when he saw Legolas. Quickly, he pulled his hand away and smiled guiltily. Legolas wondered whether Feren realized that Lalleth had not put the pastries there accidentally - certainly not on this day. Before the guard could speak, Legolas had pushed his present into Lalleth’s hands and jumped into Feren’s strong arms. He was warm, like always.

“Happy Begetting Day, Feren!” he cried excited. “I am happy you were born! Lalleth says people give other people presents on their begetting days, and I have brought you one too! Can I have a pastry?” Expectantly, he looked up at the guard. He liked his face. Most thought he was stern and cold, but Legolas did not think that was true. Of course he was strict, but his eyes were warm like Lalleth’s cookies, and the smile with which he graced him, was small but friendly. He was not like the other guards. The young elf wished he would never go away. Maybe Feren felt the same, for after a short hesitation and a look at Lalleth, he nodded.

“You can have one, Legolas, but no more, or it will spoil your appetite. And careful, they are still hot!” Lalleth laughed.

“Something you would not know of course, for you would never dare to steal any before they were ready, would you now?" The elleth and the elfling grinned when Feren blushed (a rarity for him). Luckily for him, Lalleth soon showed pity, and shove the plate with cookies closer to him.

"No, do not answer that! The spirits know they could more safely give a gem to a dwarf for safe-keeping, than have you around freshly-made food and expect it to remain untouched! Take as many as you want, and consider it a part of your birthday gift. Legolas, before you take one however, you must first tell me that this wild lady is not Feren’s present.” Three pair of eyes, one excited but slightly uncertain, one mildly concerned and once increasingly alarmed, focused on the wildcat. With its grey, long fur and forest green eyes, she could be called a beauty in better times - but right now, she looked like a tenth fury released by the Dark Lord. Though held down firmly by Lalleth, her long nails scratched the table, and she hissed loudly. Legolas scowled at her.

"Be quiet, Rhaw! You promised you'd behave! I found her in the forest, Feren! She is the youngest daughter of the old cat you have met! She said that you, in return for your aid, are allowed to raise her. She was very grateful you pulled out the thorns."

"Was she? I mostly remember scratches and biting and hissing. It would seem her daughter is very much like her." The guard briefly closed his eyes. There were times... Slowly, he released his breath. "Legolas, what do you expect me to do with her? I am a guard. I do not have time to raise her. And even if I had... she clearly does not wish to be in the palace. She would be much happier if she was released in the forest again."

"But I asked her! And she said it was fine! If you give her some milk, I am sure she will calm down! And she could be your friend! You don't have so many friends!"

"That is not a nice thing to say, Legolas," Lalleth intervened calmly. They both knew, even before catching the elfling's surprised expression, that their charge had not meant it in a mean way. Legolas saw the world just as it was, and he did not think about his words. That did not mean it did not sting a little. Brusquely, he shook his head.

"No, Legolas. I appreciate the gesture, but I will not raise Rhaw. Bring her back to her mother and tell her that her debt is paid, but that I would feel much more secure should her daughter grow up in a familiar environment. Do you want to do that for me?"

"But then I do not have any present for your begetting day!

"Your presence is your present, little one." The young elf frowned, clearly unsatisfied with the answer, but to Feren's relief, he did not pursue the subject. Clambering off Feren's lap and unto a chair, he took a cookie and started nibbling on it thoughtfully. The guard exchanged an exasperated glance with Lalleth.

"I had imagined the circumstances a little differently, but will you tell him what we have planned for today?"

"I am sure he can figure that out himself." "What can I figure out myself?" Lalleth smiled mysteriously. "For that, little prince, you will have to look." His brows creasing, Legolas looked around in the kitchen, his cookie half-forgotten between his fingers. Feren and Lalleth often gave him these challenges, but only rarely in the kitchen. What had changed here? What was out of place? There was little new but the cookies and… a basket, hidden between the food. His ears perked up.

"Are we going to have a picnic?"

"Well-found, penneth! Yes, we are going picnicking near the little pool, and tonight we can climb the old willow tree and watch the stars together. We are only expected back in the palace tomorrow well in the afternoon. What do you think?"

"Was this Feren's idea, or yours?"

"Feren's, but I have made the food, and you can help us carry it, if you want."

"But it is Feren's begetting day! We should have done something special!" Feren cocked his head.

"Is this not special, penneth? Your father has granted me this day off, and I wish to spend it in the company of my friends. There is nothing else I'd rather do."

"But it is not special!"

"Is it not? We are all here, the weather is perfect for swimming and the forest is still safe enough for us to venture in." The guard bent forward, catching Legolas' eyes seriously. "All things are special, if you make them so."

"Especially when you prepare a picknick with all of Feren's favorite dishes. Come now, Legolas. Let us release poor Rhaw her back into the forest, and go to the little pool." At last the young elf nodded. Finishing his cookie, he jumped from the chair.

"Fine, but I will carry the basket!"

It turned out that Lalleth had prepared two baskets - a big one, and a smaller one - and Legolas eventually conceded to carry the little one. They must have posed quite an interesting sight; the stern guard with a large picnic basket, the prince dragging a smaller one, and the kitchen maid with a furiously hissing wildcat held firmly between her hands. To Feren's relief, there were few elves in the palace to bear witness of the scene. They reached the gates without meeting anyone but Erin (who threw him a strangely sympathetic glance - Feren wondered what was behind that) and soon enough, they were treading the well-known path to the Nightmere.

It had been a while since the path had been walked upon. Feren didn't know whether _anyone_ but the three of them ever chose that pool to swim in. There were enough waters, hot and sweet-scented, cold and refreshing, just the right temperature to dream in, within the palace, and the mighty Forest River tempted many of the strong soldiers towards its currents. Compared to them, the Nightmere was but a small pool, black as ink and hidden in cold shadows, though the water itself was relatively warm. The only characteristic that made it worth the trip, were the luminescent algae within its depths, creating patterns wonderful to behold, but lasting mere moments until the image was wiped away and replaced by another. Some of the Nandor claimed that the wise could perceive the future in it. Legolas claimed he could catch the lights. Neither of those claims were ever met with any proof, but at least they provided some kind of entertainment to their owners. Legolas, at least, spent half of the afternoon diving into the lake, swimming as a fish towards the lights while Feren and Lalleth held their breaths as if they were joining him underwater themselves, until he submerged again; and the other half napping in Feren's arms. The guard didn't mind. At least it gave him time to calm his heart down. Seeing the young prince jump from cliffs that were twenty times his height, was probably more nerve-wrecking than doing it himself.

It certainly was tiring enough. The elfling barely stirred as Lalleth was preparing dinner, and when the blanket was covered with the most delicious pastries and cheeses and nuts and sugared fruits (and even a rare piece of chocolate), Feren had to wake the little prince, lest he would sleep throughout the night. Luckily, the dinner dispelled all traces of sleep from his eyes. By the time they had finished eating, he was up and about again, lingering near the pool's edges to watch the lights - _do not fall in, Legolas, or we shall go home immediately to have your clothes dried near the fire!_ \- and hanging on the lowest branches of the tree, waiting for Feren and Lalleth to join him - _you have promised we will watch the stars, Belranc!_ \- until at last everything was cleaned up and the kitchen maid and the guard obediently climbed the tree after the child. Legolas had already picked a spot, high in the canopy, where the stars shone brightly and they could even watch the lights in the pool again. It was a good spot. Curled comfortably against the bark, Feren soon found himself slipping into daydreams, and he might have slipped off to sleep completely, had not a little warm body wriggled its way under his arms and against his chest. It brought a lazy smile upon his lips.

"You can stay if you do not wriggle overly much." Immediately the movement ceased. Feren’s smile widened. For one reason or another, the young elf had decided he was an excellent sitting and napping spot, and though he might have barked at such a notion when he was younger, he found he did not care at all when Legolas was involved. It was even soothing, he had found, to hold a little creature within your arms and feel its breath against your skin, completely entrusted to you. This time, however, something was different. Feren did not notice it at first, not completely - but something was off, and it was scratching at the back of his mind like a light itch, steadily growing stronger. Legolas seemed tense, nervous. Frowning, the guard lifted his head.

"Legolas?" A hum. Closing his eyes, Feren laid his head against the bark again. "If there is something you want to ask, you may speak." A short silence followed. Feren could feel Legolas craning his neck to look at him. He wondered how he must look to the prince. Often, his fellow soldiers had described him stern and inaccessible, but that did not seem to hold true for the elfling. When at last the question came though, his eyes shot open surprised.

"Would you rather have had a bear?" The guard blinked.

"Pardon me?" "I first wanted to give you a bear cub, to protect you when you are away, but his mother did not like that, but I can ask her again if you want," Legolas said breathlessly. The young elf was looking entirely honest. Feren did not doubt he'd run away to the bear mother the instant he would agree with such a proposal. He was not sure whether the elfling's insistence on a birthday present for him was a blessing or a curse. With a sigh, he pulled the child closer.

"Shall I tell you a story, my prince?" There was a short, surprised silence. Feren did not doubt Legolas would accept the offer. The elfling could never let a story opportunity pass by - and indeed, after a few moments he pushed himself closer to the guard and nodded against his chest.

"Is it a story about men?"

"Not this time. This story is about a young elf, who once lived in this very forest. His hair was golden as the sun, and his eyes blue as a kingfisher's wings, and when he laughed, all of the world seemed good and peaceful for a little while. In fact, he looked a little like you, my prince. All of the animals and all of the trees loved him, and he loved them back - and yet, he was not happy." Feren could feel the young elf frowning in his arms.

"Why was he not happy?"

"Because he felt locked up. _I want to see the world, he said to his friend, the old oak. I want to see the dwarves and their jewels. I want to meet the men in the far North. I want to go far and beyond, and travel to the big city on the lake and the large mountain halls and be friends with all I meet!_ And he said that so often and so longingly, that one day the old oak broke off one branch and gave it to the elfling, and said to him: "Take this staff, young elf. It shall guard you on your travels. Go to the dwarves in their mountain, where my roots do not grow, and to the men on the cold lake, and return to me with a token of their friendship before my last acorn falls. If you succeed, I shall give you a magnificent present." And so, the young elf took the staff and went on his way." The night had never been so quiet before. Not one bird shared its evening song, and even the water beneath them was silent and smooth as a dwarf's table. Feren would have sworn Lalleth too was listening. Carefully, he stroke Legolas' golden hair.

"First, he went to the men of the Dark Lake. They were a proud folk in those days, boastful of their achievements in stone and wood (for their city was unparalleled in beauty in the North, and bards of old compared it to Numenor itself!) - but their true jewel, so they said, was their archive. Higher than a dragon rising tall, fairer than the Argonath, the Tower of Wisdom guarded thousands and thousands of papers and parchments and woodskins, dating back many, many ages! There were accounts of craftsmanship, recipes to construct wonders untold! There were maps of secret treasures and hidden doors! There were a thousand exciting tales - but one thing was missing. The city did not have a genealogical account of its current Master. _If the master elf would be so good as to help us to find all of the Master's ancestors in the thousands of books, he would earn the eternal friendship of the city's inhabitants,_ so the men said. And thus, the young elf vowed to help them." Confused, Legolas looked up.

"What is a genealogical account, Feren?" "

"It is a long list with all of your ancestors. Mortals find it important to know who their fathers and grandfathers were. For what reason, I do not know. I believe the Master was convinced his family descended from the Numenoreans themselves, and he wanted proof. Either way, he had ordered the clerks to scourge the immense archive for his family records, and the young elf assisted them. For a long time, he lived in the city and rummaged through the papers, aided by the spirit of the old oak in his staff. He arrived in the Tower at sunrise, and stayed long after sunset, and none of the human clerks worked as hard or as diligent as he did. At last then, after seven cold years, the day came that he had finished the Master's genealogy. He wrapped it up in silk and satin that he had bought on the market, and brought it to the Master's house." Feren smiled when he heard Legolas holding his breath. It was always easy to entertain the prince with a story.

"At first, the Master was very happy, and offered him a thick cloak made of the fur of a white king's stag - but when he opened the book, he ignited in anger. It turned out his oldest ancestors had not been Numenoreans, but simple fishermen, casting their nets on the shores of the dark lake, and there was nothing noble or praise-worthy about their lives. "You are a traitor, that you have falsified my family's history!" he said, and he tore the white cloak from the young elf's shoulders and chased him out of the city!"

"But that was mean of him!"

"It was. The Master was a proud and cruel man, and he could not bear the thought of being 'common'. He would not rule for a very long time."

"I would have told him that fishers are very important people too! They help feed the people and the water birds, and they save the drowned! Galion told me that.""

"Galion is wise." Legolas was silent for a while, thinking about the injustice, and then he raised his head.

"What happened to the elf then?"

"The young elf was very sad to have lost all of his belongings in the city, but he was very cheerful by nature, and after a short rest, he decided to go to the dwarves of the Great Mountain, and offer his friendship there. And thus, he traveled to the North, with only light cloaks and his staff to accompany him. When he arrived at the stony gates, at first the dwarves wanted to send him away. They are a very secretive and selfish people, and they are unwelcoming towards strangers - and especially towards elves - but when the young elf had explained his purpose, an old dwarf came forward, with a beard as white as snow and eyes as dark as coal. _If he truly wished to earn their friendship, he said, there was one thing he could do. It was but a small task, and they would not have bother him with it had he not offered his help freely, but there was a precious jewel the dwarves of the Great Mountain wished to give to their king, and it missed only one more thing - a white, radiant gem, cut and polished in such as way, that it would shine brighter than the stars. If the esteemed stranger could descend into the depths of the caves and retrieve such a stone, and cut it in the correct way, he would earn the eternal friendship of the dwarves._ ” Legolas scrunched his nose, a gesture so familiar Feren almost had to laugh.

“He had to go into caves?”

“Yes. The caves were so deep that even the light of Elbereth herself could not reach its depths! That is why the rocks had created the gems – so that they could still enjoy the light of the stars.”

“And did he go down?” Feren nodded.

“He did. He did not like it at all – just like you, he detested the darkness of the mountains – but he had promised the dwarves his aid, and he had promised the oak he would fulfill his mission, so he bound his staff close to his back and descended on a long rope. It took him more than a month to reach the bottom, and two months to climb up again, but at long last, he reached the halls with a small, rough gem in his hands. Guided by the spirit of the old oak, he polished the stone and cut it so carefully that he refused to work on windy days, for the mountain would move ever so slightly – unnoticed by the blunt dwarves - and even the slightest tremor would upset his craftsmanship. For many years, he lived among the dwarves, in a cold and dark cell with a hard bed, for despite their courteous words, the dwarves were greedy and untrusting, and had given him the cheapest lodgings they could find, but at long last, the stone was polished into perfection, and the young elf bore it to the dwarven king.”

“Did the dwarven king offer him a present?”

“No, penneth. He offered him insults and threats – for the naugrim, ever jealous and greedy, were envious of the young elf’s craftsmanship, and accused him of having stolen the cut gem from their smithies. They took the stone, and stabbed out the young elf’s eyes, that had gazed upon the secrets of the dwarven city, and banished him from the mountain. Now the poor elf was all alone in the snowy night, and he wept.” Feren could almost feel Lalleth’s disapproval with the story, but he ignored it the best he could.

“Then the staff he had always held close, started to glow, and the old oak spoke: “You have finished the tasks I have given to you. Now I have one final mission for you to accomplish. Come home and build me a shrine, in which my spirit can reside after my leaves have fallen and my wood has rotten.”

“But I have nothing anymore! I have even lost my eyes! Would that I never had left my home!” the young elf moaned. Then the tree said once more:

“Come home then, young elf. Take the staff one more time. My spirit will guide you over safe paths.” And so the young elf did, until he was home again. Cold and blind, with bloodied feet and a wounded heart, he knelt before the old oak.

“I have no wood to build your shrine,” he said.

“The trees you love so much, will offer you their bark.” And so they did.

“I have no strength to bring the wood here,” he said.

“The bears and the wolves shall carry it.” And so they did.

“I have no hands to craft the shrine,” he said.

“The marten and the eagle shall lift the wood.” And so they did. During one year, all of the forest creatures and all of the trees aided the young elf in his final task, and when autumn came, the dying old oak called the elf to its side.

“You have done well, young elf. Now, I have one last favor to ask. “Stay with me tonight, and when the morning comes, wash your face with the dew on my bark. The drops will be more refreshing than any water the source of the Forest River could offer you. Do you accept this final task?”

“The company of a friend is not a task, old oak – but I will stay with you.” Ever true to his word, the young elf sat with the oak until its fluids had stopped moving and its roots grew cold and dead, and when the dawn broke, he washed his face with the dew. As soon as the droplets touched his face, something changed. No longer was his hair golden, but brown as the oak’s bark, and his blue eyes had become green as the leaves. In his wisdom, the old oak had made him a forest spirit, and today, he still resides near the shrine, guarding our forest from the outside world. If you are very quiet, you can sometimes hear his laughter on the wind. And that is the tale of the young elf, who wanted to see the world,” Feren concluded. Legolas stayed silent for a long time. Just when the guard thought he had fallen asleep during the story, he spoke up softly.

“Is he happy now?”

“I think he is. He is in the forest he always loved so much, together with his friends. Little one, do you understand what the story is trying to tell you?” There was another short silence.

“That we are better off at home?” “Yes, little one,” Feren said relieved. “That we are better off with our family. That Rhaw and the bear cub are better off with their family. And that I, for my begetting day, could not have wished for a better present than your company.” The hesitant look Legolas gave him was heart-wretching. If only he had the power to take all of the elfling’s doubts away! Pulling him closer, Feren pressed a kiss on the golden hair.

“I am not lying, little prince. You are my best friend. Thank you for today.” Legolas did not answer - but when two tiny arms were wrapped around the guard’s waist, Feren knew the young elf had finally accepted his words. When the morning comes, he would carry the sleeping elfling home, and Erin would look at him again with his mysterious smile, and there would be sympathetic glances for the poor guard, who had been assigned to deal with the difficult elfling – how little did they know about the joy he felt every time he saw Legolas laugh! – but now, they were in the forest, together – and that was more than enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I greatly appreciate any comments, so leave a message after the beep! *LOUD BEEP HINT HINT HINT*


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